Happy 4th of July everybody! I wrote a new 4th of July poem so I'll post it along with the one I posted last year this time.
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-You have freedom, now what will you do with it?
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We celebrated freedom
from beneath the back porch;
ears pressed against the rain
to hear the thunder.
Lightning became our fireworks;
ignited by some unseen hand,
it escaped to every corner
of our eyes. David said
he wished his kids could see this,
and took pictures of the storm red,
the unfinished sunset, the moment
someone else was having.
I moved to the edge,
felt the tendrils of the fury
and the wind shift towards me
into my empty hands.
And I couldn’t go further.
I sat back down and remembered home,
while he continued to capture memories
from a confined distance.
We celebrated freedom
from beneath the back porch;
ears pressed against the rain
to hear the thunder.
Lightning became our fireworks;
ignited by some unseen hand,
it escaped to every corner
of our eyes. David said
he wished his kids could see this,
and took pictures of the storm red,
the unfinished sunset, the moment
someone else was having.
I moved to the edge,
felt the tendrils of the fury
and the wind shift towards me
into my empty hands.
And I couldn’t go further.
I sat back down and remembered home,
while he continued to capture memories
from a confined distance.
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Poetry is fiction. In actuality, at my camp, a group of us went out back to look at the fireworks, not just two of us. But while I write a poem, I begin to get a feeling for a theme or something. The quote is actually sort of unknown. A friend of mine put it as his status on facebook today, but I don't know if it's his quote or not; I only know it doesn't come up in google as a known quote. But to me, the quote captures a bit of what I wanted to capture with the poem: the sense of how we can limit ourselves in how we use our freedom. Did it work? Do you like the poem? Let me know what you think.
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Parting on the 4th of July
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These are the days of independence
when old things break
and pieces are lost forever.
Every final night at this camp
all the stars have dangled like white threads
being pulled a little closer.
These threads are slowly fraying.
It seems our destiny to spread out, to scatter,
to branch away from any home we make.
Once entwined, we are a gathering ready to disperse
like the fireworks bursting into the star-washed sky
only to fade and fall into darkness.
Maybe, mornings from now,
we too will find ourselves in hidden places,
but as children waking in the grass.
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I wrote this poem around 4 years ago while a camper at a different branch of the camp I'm at now. Funny, huh? Anyway, I really love this poem so I seem to post it every 4th of July. Hope you enjoy it too, and as always I'm open to suggestions.
Take care y'all!
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